


It Burns

by H0n0redGh0st



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, AU of the boys leaving the gang with their father, Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Demonizing of Sojiro, Genyatta - Freeform, Homophobia, I haven't reread this so there may be a lot of typos and things, Incomplete, M/M, Other, Shimada Brothers, Slurs, Stereotypes, This is a Prequel to a Deadlock themed AU, This is an old fic from back in the day where we didn't know the name of Sojiro, This isn't happy, Yes Hanzo joins Deadlock, this is just some sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 13:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H0n0redGh0st/pseuds/H0n0redGh0st
Summary: “I will be fine… Worry about yourself.” Hanzo bit back the information of the dangerous thought he’d had of their father and the excuse he was easily able to come up with… That thought was abrasive to him. Ground its way against the grain of his very being and beliefs. A groan from the floor startled him. Sojiro was already regaining some semblance of consciousness. “I need to go. Stay safe, Genji.” It almost sounded as if he wanted to cry and he loathed himself all more for being so careless. Sojiro hadn’t spotted him yet. He wasn’t going to hide any longer.Genji let the phone fall to the sheets so that he could wrap his arms tightly around Zenyatta’s torso. There wasn’t a need to explain. Zenyatta held firmly onto the shaking bundle in his arms. No one slept well that night while plagued with what could happen the next day.





	It Burns

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to an AU a friend and I was writing. How the Shimadas make it to The States and how it's just big and awful. There are slurs, stereotypes, and bullshit.

It was bittersweet, leaving such a place as Hanamura behind, the beauty above matched only by the darkness it hid underground. It was the only home Hanzo had ever known but America – they said – was a land of opportunity for those who were willing to work themselves to the bone for it. It was a place of safety and of refuge, welcoming shores accepting all those that left their old lives behind them. There was no Yakuza in San Diego, or so he was told. He looked over his shoulder as he merged lanes, his father gurgling irritably in the passenger's seat beside him, still hung over from five or so nips of vodka he'd downed on their flight. Genji was still sound asleep in the back seat, headphones blotting out the noise of the passing cars and the slurring old man. Their mother was gone, their welcome rescinded, and this place would be where they planted their roots. Still, he did not feel like a refugee, carrying all that he could in his arms and fleeing for his life across the ocean. Hanzo felt strange like after all these years he was finally coming home. 

The lights and coastline gave way to a compacted community. Homes pressed in close as if huddling from the chill of the night or from the oppressive mansions towering just a few blocks over. Their neighborhood didn't seem to be too bad off. The main office people were extremely polite as well. They were nervous though as he didn't exactly fit the bill with the rest of the residents there, but explaining that his father was resting in the front seat, which they could observe through their front window, they relaxed much more. 

The house was nice for what they could afford. Even if it looked a little dilapidated, it could be fixed as they went along. Soft murmurs from the radio mingled with their father's as they pulled into the driveway. With his father as he was, he made sure not to pull into the overhead portion, opting to keep the door free of any obstruction. It was no Shimada manor, but it looked better than the photos and the virtual tour. Maybe the owners had cleaned it up a bit for them. Speaking of, he watched an elderly couple with tufts of white hair and matching khakis coming down the road, looking at their van and talking animatedly between themselves. 

Thankfully it wasn't anyone he needed to worry about. The owners had come personally to make sure that he was able to get in alright and show them around, to which he had to politely decline as he needed to get rid of the nasty bout of Jet lag. Tomorrow they'd be by to check if he needed anything else. Clearly, they wanted to know just who had come into their neighborhood. Even though their agent had made them video chat over that stupid app. He huffed and rolled his eyes as he opened the back door of the van to nudge Genji awake before he was helping his father out of the vehicle so he wouldn't stumble out and make a spectacle of them already. 

Genji took his sweet time stretching his legs, pressing his bare feet up against the back window as he did. When he finally crawled out of the back seat, his lime-green hair attracted a bit of attention from the local rubber-neckers. He waved at the old couple walking past but got a rather unfriendly look in return. Not to be discouraged, he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed a couple of suitcases from the trunk before following Hanzo and their father inside, flipflops smacking loudly against the soles of his feet. 

The old man quickly settled into the couch and it wasn't long before he was snoring. While he was out like a light the two brothers quickly carried in all they'd brought with them and unpacked most of it. There was much to do before the house could be called a home, but at least they wouldn't be starting with nothing at all. The previous owner had been kind enough to sell them some of the existing furniture, sofa included along with a washer, dryer, and two beds. The cupboards were largely empty save for a few odd bits of cookware – a bent steamer basket and a pressure cooker missing a lid. 

Their resources would be tight for a while until they'd managed to get all the missing pieces together, but first on the list was a car to replace the rental. Hanzo had lined something up over the phone, but there was still so much to do until the house could feel like a house, let alone a home. That wasn't even to mention the search for new employment and getting Genji enrolled in university classes once their finances had settled a bit. Despite the violent upheaval in their lives, Hanzo remained level-headed, taking responsibility for his family where his father sometimes lacked the motivation. 

Their first meal in the house had been from some Chinese restaurant down the road. When the food had arrived Hanzo had nearly balked at what was under the lid; he'd been warned that American food was incredibly greasy by anyone's standards, but he hadn't expected that fact to remain true for all food in America. Even the rice was too greasy to stick together, forcing them to eat it with spoons. Genji tried his best to placate his brother's indignation with the knowledge that Panda Express wasn't exactly authentic Chinese food to begin with, but the sour expression remained on Hanzo's pursed lips. He begrudgingly ate and decided to accept that 'affordable', 'delivery', 'not deep fried' weren't likely to coincide here. He had a feeling they might be stuck with Chinese delivery for a while anyhow. 

That evening, once his father had drifted off for a second time, Hanzo busied himself with sorting through their documents. His IDP was stacked with his ID that he would be changing soon once they had enough to become naturalized citizens. The work visas were tucked with resumes. The electric and the water would be turned on tomorrow – thank the gods there was a breeze – and the internet soon after. Busy, busy. Genji at one point had asked him to head off to sleep because he hadn’t taken a nap all day, but Hanzo declined as he tried to beat the setting sun. 

“I will be sleeping on the couch anyways, Genji. It will be fine. Make sure you open a window in your room before bed. It is stuffy in here as it is.” 

What woke him was a knock on the door and the beeping of his dying phone. 8:00 AM. Lovely. His body protested getting up, but it seemed no one else was going to be fetching the door anytime soon. “Coming…” The Japanese was garbled as he fixed himself haphazardly. A shoe and toe became a casualty as he finally jerked open the door to a utility man. 

“Han-zoo Shee-muh-da. Here to flip on the power, sir.” At least the man looked embarrassed by his poor pronunciation of his name before he gestured around the side of the house with a thumb over his shoulder. 

The feeling of air conditioning and being able to turn on a light was a luxury he hadn’t realized he’d become so accustomed to until they’d lost it. It was a relief to have it all back. 

Water followed soon after, for which Genji was incredibly grateful as he practically sprinted to the restroom. While their father slept off his cocktail of jet-lag and hangover, Genji waited on the technician from Cox to install their internet and cable and Hanzo took the car back to the rental shop and caught a courtesy shuttle to used car lot he'd been on the phone with a week ago. He knew the car he was there for, a seven-year-old white sedan he could get for a song because of a little rust damage and a dented bumper where the previous owner had backed it into a mailbox. 

On his way home he'd snapped at the worker in the drive-through window as he picked up lunch to bring back with him. The trip to the dealer had been rockier than he had expected – the sales manager had tried to give him ever kind of runaround he could, even tried to jack up the price on the rusty sedan, figuring Hanzo was fresh off the boat, could barely speak English, and didn't know how to cut a deal. He'd fought the manager down for well over the hour he'd expected to be there and was running late for lunch as it was. He'd practically thrown the sack of greasy fake tacos in Genji's face when he'd opened his mouth to complain that he'd been starving. 

Their father finally emerged at around 10 that evening. It seemed his internal clock had buzzed that it was still morning. It wouldn’t have been wrong had they still been in Japan. There wasn’t any complaints from the man but there were some grunts and groans that there wasn’t much in their fridge - leftover take out and a few jugs of water. Genji had popped his head phones on an hour ago, catching up on some of the new Youtube videos he had missed the night before while Hanzo had a mess on the camel carpet of their ‘living room.’ The job websites had been far more useful than the classifieds section he had scoured through. A stack of his papers were scattered out of the way by their father’s stumbling about to the couch. The quite inquiry from the man between bites of double pan fried noodles was almost lost to Hanzo as he quickly restacked the newspaper clippings. It was difficult to find anything in the fields he’d been trained in unless he had experience. Well experience that existed on paper. Whoops. 

“Just apply somewhere. I already have work for myself. You can use me as a reference.” 

Hanzo wrinkled his brow in confusion at their father’s insistence. The phone his tossed to him showed several email communications and a resume. It was neatly put together, near seamless with every proper stamp and reference that checked out. He’d been lucky to have worked with loyal men and women. The next few emails Hanzo scrolled through told him that his father started work in the next few days. A courtesy extended by the owner so that he could get settled in with his sons and reset his internal clock. Of course, he would cover his own hide… Well if he was offering to be a reference. The sooner he, and his father, could get back to work, the sooner Genji could enter into his college years and be able to achieve a better life. One preferably more stable. 

That’s how he found himself in an interview at the H&R Block about 4 minutes away. The woman chatting with him, well flirting if he was going to be honest with himself, was bubbly enough in nature and was enthusiastic that the strength of finances and mathematics flowed in his family line. The dread question of why he wasn’t working with his father was finally brought up, and he had to explain that they didn’t allow close relatives to work in the same area. They liked fresh, experienced hands in their firm. “Well lucky for us I suppose! Next Tuesday sound okay?” 

“That sounds perfect.” It seemed the gods were finally turning towards them again. 

It wasn't long before Genji joined Hanzo in the shopping plaza, a game shop in the same strip mall hired him on part-time, and moved him up to full-time when someone else quit. When their schedules lined up they walked to work together – occasionally Hanzo would convince Genji to let him pack a lunch to save money but Genji preferred the subs, and Mexican food he could get at the plaza. They butted heads about it, but in the end Genji was making his own money, and as long as he was making strides to help save for college Hanzo let him buy lunch without too much bickering. 

They spent the months that followed scrimping and saving, pinching pennies mostly under Hanzo's duress so that they would have enough for tuition without needing to take out student loans, at least at first. It wasn't easy with the mortgage on their shoulders but their father's job paid well and helped keep them afloat. Hanzo helped Genji to apply for financial aid and find scholarships – there were plenty available for new citizens from overseas, especially cultural and racial diversity scholarships, but once Genji gave up full time work to focus on college they'd need all the financial help they could get. 

The spring turned into summer while none noticed. The house started to acquire creature comforts - an old flat screen for the living room to watch the news, a second hand stove/range, curtains - and fleshed out into something more hospitable. Hanzo all but beamed when they had left over funds thanks to a few extra hours he was able to pick up for a coworker. Sometimes he wished they took vacations more often so he could pick up their clients. A rotten thought, he knew, but he was in it to make money not friends. Genji however had flourished in the college scene. He was often over at friends’ homes or being a ‘mall rat.’ It took away the little weight that had draped itself on his shoulders and quieted the small voice that Genji wouldn’t be happy here… 

It’s why when Hanzo came home early from work one afternoon he was startled to find their front door ajar and their father in a state of dishevelment. The fear that someone had come in, harmed the man and stolen what was valuable almost made him sick as he hurried to see if he was bleeding. A pungent yeast like smell hit him like a wall and slowed his approach. The brown bottle laying on the floor with its contents soaking into the floor confirmed his suspicion. “Are you well?” With quiet tones, he nudged his father awake with apprehension. Hopefully, Genji wouldn’t see their father in such a state again. A silent prayer was lifted from Hanzo that hoped he hadn’t lost his job and was starting back on the venom once more. The father’s job was still intact and it made Hanzo release the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he cleaned up the spilled beer. Hiding the beer bottles under the garbage below it and getting him back into his bedroom, Hanzo tucked the whole even into the corner of his mind as if it had been a fluke. Unfortunately, it was only the start. 

As the months carried on, times became rockier. Try as Hanzo might to keep the growing problem of their father from Genji, his brother had caught him walking their top-heavy dad into his bedroom, slurring about how he should cut his hair now that they weren’t Shimadas. A little white lie. That’s all he told as he tried to keep the light that maybe this was a one-time deal that Genji had caught. Hanzo began to hide the beer bottles in the crawl space under the house, hide them away until garbage collection day, and get into shouting matches with the belligerent drunk who used to be his father, who was sloshed coming home from a half day that shouldn’t have been. The bills started creeping in on their savings and Hanzo felt the pressure starting to cripple him. 

Less than a month later their father lost his job – the CEO and foreman had tried to be empathetic, but he'd shown up hungover too many days and missed too many more. His work was sloppy when finished at all and it was affecting the company's finances. They'd let him go to stop him sinking their business. Without a job to take up his time nor family around to monitor him, Sojiro Shimada fell heavily to the bottle. 

Hanzo was relieved when Genji started staying later at school – whether it was from real dedication to his work, or to spend time with friends on campus, or simply because he didn't want to come home, it didn't matter. It gave Hanzo the opportunity to clean up after their father before Genji could see. He'd gather up the beer bottles and store them in the recycling bag in the crawl space, but he was seeing individual bottles less and less the more he found his father passed out with a glass of mostly melted ice and a handle of whiskey or vodka on the end table. 

Hanzo would help him off to bed and try to convince him to drink some water for the hangover, but Sojiro was more of a 'hair of the dog that bit him' kind of man. His temperament was volatile like this. Sometimes he was amicable, when the liquor hit him just right he was even jocular, laughing and patting Hanzo on the back as he helped him to his room. Sometimes he was mopey and weepy, dragging his bare feet along the carpet, making getting him to his room a chore at best. Sometimes he had the fire of agave in his blood, he would get angry when Hanzo tried to touch him, to help him out of his recliner and off to bed. He'd smacked his son more than once in this state. Hanzo tried to hide the busted lip from Genji, but he'd seen the bruise. 

Responsibility shifted onto Hanzo's shoulders. He was the older brother, the caretaker, the breadwinner, the son and the father. He earned the income and paid the bills, watched their finances like a hawk in the dim night, pouring over receipts and bank statements under the yellow kitchen light to reconcile their expenses. When Genji finally snuck in near to midnight, Hanzo looked haggard, this time not hiding the cut on his cheek where his father's ring had scraped him. He thrust a receipt from the university bookstore, demanding to know if Genji had used his card to buy textbooks. 

“Five hundred dollars!” He snapped, waving the receipt in his younger brother's face. “Five hundred dollars, Genji! We don't have five hundred dollars extra for you to be spending like this! The back door needs repairs and the car needs new tires and you're buying five hundred dollars worth of brand new textbooks! Why didn't you rent them?” 

“They weren't available to rent!” Genji defended, putting his hands up, looking at Hanzo with wide eyes. “I looked!” 

“Bullshit you looked!” Genji's defensive posture did nothing to stop the palm that slapped his cheek quick as a lashing. “Three textbooks, Genji, and none of them were available used or for rent?! What do you even need another textbook on Buddhism for?! You should be focusing on finding a major!” 

A vacuum seemed to settle around them. Not a sound could be heard from the noisy highway, not a snore from their father's room, and certainly not a breath between them. Hanzo took in the reddening of Genji's cheek and the mix of anger and fear hardening his little brother's eyes as they stared each other down. He didn't back down, instead curling a fist at his side. The apology he knew he should give wedged in his throat and refused to budge. Stubborn pride had refused to allow him to apologize that night, and Genji left him to his thoughts, refusing to explain himself after such a display of force. The money had been spent. They wouldn't refund it anyways. He'd just have to see if he could pick up a few more hours or see if they could skip on one of the bills that month. 

That morning there was a strained silence between the brothers, even though Hanzo had tried to make a silent apology with one of Genji's favorite breakfasts. He knew he'd really messed up then. Not a single word was spoken between them. Not even when Hanzo had asked if he needed a ride to school because of construction starting on the main line's route. It wasn't until Genji was walking out the door that a parting shot was fired. "The car needs new tires, brother." The door slammed behind him and he ran to the bus stop. 

The ire with which the words were spat was like a heavy slug to Hanzo's chest. He slumped into his chair in the dining room putting his head in his hands and biting his tongue. He didn't have time for this, didn't have time to let Genji's biting words get to him even if he'd earned them. He couldn't afford some kind of breakdown, not now. He bottled it up with everything else, swallowed it down and cleaned up the mess from breakfast. He was into his job a half hour early because if he'd have given himself a minute to reflect, he'd have been late. He crammed it all down as far as he could and for a while that worked surprisingly well for a time. 

After that things seemed to relax a bit between them – the door got fixed and the car got new tires and nobody apologized. The semester ended and school was on winter break, but it seemed Genji was still just as adamant about avoiding the house now as he had been before. He found seasonal work with the same game shop he'd been working at before – they'd been more than eager to have him back, even for a month over the holiday season. With Genji working again Hanzo could breathe a little sigh of relief, and it helped that their father had taken to diluting his rum with eggnog. The holidays were tense, from within the household and from outside it. The neighborhood was all decked out in its good Christian holiday best, festive lights and giant snow globes and animatronic reindeer – all both cheerfully optimistic and dreadfully tacky when the temperature dipped as low as 60 degrees at night. 

The neighborhood took it upon themselves to adopt their lawn after cornering Hanzo on his way up the drive. They questioned why it was that he had not a single ornament or string of lights outside. Not even a Christmas tree or a menorah in the window? How come? The fib that his father was ill was easy to slide, but they pressed on. Surely his brother could put them up or hell even the neighbors were volunteering to help. It took him explaining that their funds were stretched thin and he couldn't afford the... wonderful displays that they had. Hanzo sipped his tea as he looked out at a lighted reindeer stared out into the road from near his driveway. It had startled him until the next-door neighbor, Mr. Hayes, came over and told him he lit up the place to be a little cozier for the holidays. He thanked him and apologized all in one that he didn't know how he could repay him, but the elder man waved him off and told him just to help put it away later. An easy enough trade. 

The holiday programs and songs finally stopped playing one day. It came and went with highs in the 70's and barely a single piece of coal from 'Santa.' They managed to make it through dinner without so much as a quarrel. An amicable mood that dulled the ache he hadn't realized had set in his joint. There was even news that Genji was getting a small inkling of what he was interested in. A small glass of champagne was raised in a toast over a box of chicken. Old habits die hard. 

It was a cooler day than Christmas while Hanzo was stuffing away a roll of lights for their neighbor that he caught their father stumbling out of the house with Hanzo's car keys. Sojiro muttered under his breath as he tried to line up the key with the lock. "Otōsan! What are you doing?" The ladder creaked as he stepped down, catching an earful of a scratching squeak ripping down the side of the car. "You cannot drive like this!" He rushed over to stop him but Sojiro was having none of it. An elbow caught Hanzo in the stomach and he was doubling over as his dad took off down the street on foot. It took a car clipping him on Picador to get him to stop instead of the desperate cries from his eldest. He was ashamed for what he was doing to get more of that liquid comfort but he was too prideful to let anyone help. He wasn't ill, he argued, he was fine. Well. If he could have slurred it out through the pain that's what he would have said. 

Hanzo was at his side in an instant, trying to pull him out of the gutter and check him for injuries, but Sojiro shoved him away when the driver of the car got out to help. He was belligerent and Hanzo had to apologize for his behavior. He pushed both away, refusing help as he rolled onto his knees and pushed himself to his feet. If he could do all that then nothing was broken at least. Hanzo grabbed him by the shoulder, fighting his father's rebuke to hiss at him in his native tongue, telling him to go home and sit down and Hanzo would bring him a fifth of vodka. Sojiro demanded a handle and they compromised on a forty. Begrudgingly he'd stumbled back towards their home while Hanzo apologized again to the driver, explaining that his father was unwell and confused, anything to avoid admitting he was a drunk. 

Only once there was a glass of liquor between his trembling fingers did his father let Hanzo check him over for injuries. There was a nasty bruise on his hip where he'd been clipped but nothing severe enough to be broken, not that he could have afforded a trip to the hospital anyhow. Hanzo had put Genji on his health insurance, but with his track record of substance abuse, the company refused to insure their father. Hanzo was relieved he wasn't hurt but a twinge in the pit of his gut wished that car had killed him. He snuffed the thought out quick as he felt it. The man had raised him and his brother, things hadn't always been like this. It would be shameful to give up on him so easily; their father was still family. 

The rest of that evening had gone quietly. He finished up next door. Another apology to their neighbor and he was back to work, barely pausing to spare a glance at the new gash on the side of the car. It almost made it through a year. 

New Year's Eve. A struggle he should have seen coming. "Genji- please. Won't you try to be back home? You can go out, but you have to be back to eat osechi! It has some of your favorites. I made ozōni too." 

"It's not like it'll go bad at the stroke of midnight! Geeze, Hanzo. Listen, I'll try to make it back before midnight so I don't turn into a pumpkin." Genji gave him a small smile and a wave of his hand didn't mollify the dread curling in his gut. He knew when the car pulled up with a gaggle of what he hoped was Genji's friends that he probably wouldn't be seeing his brother until the next day. The overwhelming need to cry welled up in his chest once more as he watched Genji jog down the driveway and hop into the car with an uproar of cheers. 

The osechi made for Genji sat alone in the fridge as Hanzo listened to their father curse at the rerun of the ball dropping. 

All night Hanzo had expected Genji to stay out with his friends, leaving him home with his father slurring about the same people being on TV by the time the third rerun of the ball drop started playing. The closer midnight got, however, the more Hanzo felt hopeful that his little brother might surprise him, that he might come home just in time to eat, give Hanzo a joyful hug and share in the osechi like they had every year before. 

Midnight came and went without Genji. 

Hanzo tried to feel excited about the new year regardless, but the wagashi just wasn't as sweet without the whole family there – they were down two members this year, and it felt like they were down three. Sojiro didn't eat much of what Hanzo had prepared, a few sushi rolls before he was nodding off. He woke momentarily to berate Hanzo for playing Beethoven's ninth on his phone while he was trying to sleep, so Hanzo ate alone in silence, wrapping what was left in plastic for when Genji decided to come home. He curled up on the couch as his father snored, thumbing through his phone, watching a news feed of the celebration just getting underway back in Hanamura, though it was only four in the afternoon there. 

Try as he might, Hanzo couldn't bring himself to think of the place he'd grown up as home. At the same time, this wasn't home either, though it might have felt something like it in the beginning. Home was someplace where a family came together for one another, where they cared about one another. Home was a place where fathers were sober enough to walk themselves to bed at night, and where brothers sat at the table and ate supper together on the holidays. This wasn't home. 

Hanzo helped his father to bed if only so he could lock the door and shut himself away in his own room for the night. 

The next morning Genji still hadn't returned. Hanzo sent out a text message, hoping that he didn't get assaulted in some bar and swept away. He hadn't even received a Happy New Year mention. A pang of upset roiled through him. Breakfast came and went. Genji wasn't home. He looked to his phone again and only had the word 'safe' pinging on his screen. Well. That's some good news. 

It wasn't until ten-thirty that Hanzo got another text indicating Genji was on his way home, almost eleven when an unfamiliar car pulled up and Genji climbed out. It wasn't that he expected to recognize the car he'd climbed into the night before, just that he'd expected it to be just as full as before. Probably a silly expectation. Hanzo didn't make a motion to greet Hanzo at the door or even unlock it for him, just sat in the kitchen looking over the latest changes to his insurance as Genji unlocked the door as quietly as possible. He only got a few steps inside before he noticed Hanzo and froze mid-stride like a deer in the headlights, to dumbstruck to move out of the way of the oncoming traffic. 

“Where have you been?” Hanzo asked calmly, eyes turning back down towards the paperwork if only to seem more aloof. “I was worried about you.” 

“Clearly not that worried,” Genji snorted, but a scathing glance up from Hanzo snuffed the indignation from his demeanor. “I stayed at friend's house. I didn't want to waste money on a cab.” 

Hanzo chewed the inside of his cheek – he'd be a hypocrite if he tried to snap at Genji for that. “You and your friends were drinking then?” 

“Only a little. I'm legal.” He looked a bit defensive, turning his eyes away from Hanzo as he spoke. 

“In Tijuana maybe, but not here. Did you cross the border?” 

“No. Nothing like that. Just a little kegger in someone's basement.” He looked a bit disparaged, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shuffling his feet. It was the embarrassed posture that made Hanzo believe his words. 

“And where did you sleep?” Hanzo eyed him with waning skepticism a bit more relieved that Genji was home safe, that at least smoothed his ruffled feathers a bit. 

“Just on the couch.” Scratch that. Hanzo didn't believe that for a second. Genji's posture had stiffened and the answer was far too quick, no hesitant admission like there was about the keg. Genji was always a horrible liar, the only thing that saved him was the scarcity of his lies. 

Hanzo set the papers down to regard Genji. From a quick cursory glance, he seemed in one piece. There wasn't any pain that he could catch from his gestures or speech, let alone the look he was giving - Quirked brow and lips tugged into a frown by the annoyance at being interrogated. Hanzo quirked his brow in return before shaking his head. "If you are doing that again, text me. Say at least you are okay. Some of us would like to sleep soundly." The paper was folded in half and returned to its envelope. "If you have not eaten yet, there are still leftovers. Help yourself." 

His mind supplied that he should guilt Genji. Ask him why he left him alone with his father. What was more important than being with family? However, that same mind easily supplied him with vivid reminders of what he had done to distance him... He let the pending storm dissipate with a heavy sigh before it had made it past the horizon. 

"Thank you..." Genji couldn't make out why his brother wasn't making a fuss or fight over his blatant lie. It worried him in a way that had every muscle ready to launch him back out the door. This was going too easily. Hanzo rose from his seat, with a stack of papers and a mumble of if he needed him he'd be in his room. 

The emptiness in the room left behind as Hanzo hurried off mad Genji's stomach drop a little, or maybe it was just the hunger. Opening the fridge and seeing the leftover osechi he'd skipped out on made guilt curl low in Genji's gut; the fried mochi in the ozōni likely soggy by now. He'd missed his chance to eat it. He moved some of the food around, adding a couple of the wagashi to the plate with the leftover sushi rolls. He sat down at the table across from where Hanzo had been sitting and ate in silence, trying not to think how Hanzo had made his favorite unagi rolls, knowing eel wasn't cheap and how thin-stretched their funds still were. 

The only thing that made it worse was the more Genji thought about it, the more he realized that given the chance he wouldn't change a thing about last night. He pulled out his phone, firing off a few quick text messages before he heard the heavy footsteps of his father trudging down the hall. Sojiro clutched his head, fighting down last night's hangover as he groped for the refrigerator, using a swig of gin to quiet the pounding in his head. 

“Where were you last night?” Sojiro's voice was low and gravelly but it was hard to tell between the pained squinting and the natural grate of his voice whether he was angry or just tired. “Didn't even hear you come home.” There was a slight sneer to his voice as he set a fifth of gin down on the counter beside the sink, using the hand instead to rub the throbbing from his temple under the yellow kitchen light. At the sound of his father's footsteps and voice, Hanzo dared to poke his head out of his room, anticipation prickling at the nape of his neck. 

“I was out with friends.” Genji visibly shrunk back, turning his chair a bit so that there was more table between himself and Sojiro. “We went to the Tathagata Monastery to hear the monks ring the bell.” Hanzo's brows furrowed; this wasn't the same story he'd gotten, but Genji's posture wasn't stiff enough for it to be a lie. Why would Genji tell him about the kegger and not the monastery? 

“That-” Sojiro grumbled, clearing his throat and turning towards the cabinet, reaching for a rocks glass, “fucking slum?” Genji flinched as Sojiro put down the glass and filled it with a handful of ice, wiping his cold palm against his own brow to soothe his aching head. “What, you stay out all night ringing bells with monks? You too good to come home and be with your family?” He poured himself a short glass, ice clinking as he lifted the drink to his forehead in lieu of an ice pack. 

“Otōsan,” Hanzo stepped out of the hall and into the kitchen before their father could raise his voice any louder. “I told Genji it was alright for him to stay out.” Hanzo bit his lip as Sojiro turned towards him, fumbling to put the glass down on the countertop and not spill it, squinting through the pounding in his head. It wasn't clear if he was glaring at Hanzo or just struggling to see him. Hanzo took a breath and another step forward. “He was upset and didn't want to be home during new years. It would have been too painful for him to celebrate as a family without okaasan.” 

Hanzo had barely gotten the words out when there was a fist clenched in the front of his shirt as Sojiro grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward. Before Hanzo could react, Sojiro's open palm met the side of his face with a brutally harsh slap. The crack of the hand against his cheek leaving heavy silence in its wake empty enough that his father's low growl was loud and clear. 

“You do not speak of her in this house. Understand, boy?” His breath reeked of liquor and Hanzo nodded quickly as tears of pain and shock started to spill down the side of his face. He was shoved – almost dropped – from Sojiro's hold, and he stumbled backward onto his ass on the linoleum floor, leaning against the cabinet to stay out from under his father's feet. Sojiro grabbed his glass and his bottle off the counter and turned to point one warning finger at Genji, sneering at him. “Next time your brother makes osechi, you had better be around to eat it.” With that he turned his back on the kitchen, trudging into the living room to occupy his usual recliner for the day. 

Hanzo could feel the burn of Genji's eyes on the side of his face. At the moment he wasn't sure if he was warm from the sting of the slap or because he felt ashamed that Genji had to see his older brother be 'punished' like some helpless child. There wasn't a glance spared on Genji as he gingerly wiped off the tears from his cheeks. The frown pursing his lips eased into a thin line. "I am going to go get cleaned up. Be careful." It felt like a walk of shame as he ducked into their shared bathroom to splash water on his face to cool off. 

Genji had been too stunned to move. The fork was sitting on the edge of his plate and made him flinch as it fell onto the table. He wasn't sure if he could stomach any more of the dish in front of him, but he picked up the fork and forced a few more bites. He wouldn't waste it. 

After that day, Genji learned Hanzo was proficient in applying foundations and concealers as he looked near immaculate for work the next day. 

The trust between Genji and Hanzo reforged a bit after that, united in the presence of a common aggressor. Genji made more efforts to be home in the evenings if only in solidarity such that his brother wouldn't have to be home with their father alone. It eased the tension in the house for a few weeks at least, until the spring semester started and Genji was back to spending most of his time on campus. Hanzo had explained to an irate drunk that Genji's university was an hour and a half bus ride away and he hadn't yet gotten his US driver's license, so he stayed late on campus to have access to libraries and professors and TAs. He wasn't pleased about it, but the explanation seemed to satisfy the old man, else he was too inebriated to act out in anger. 

Hanzo missed having his little brother around that spring. Genji spent much of his time cloistered away on campus, and Hanzo didn't blame him. It would have been nice to have some help caring for their father, something that was becoming less of a familial duty, done with love, and more of a dangerous chore, done with a sense of obligation. More often than not he was met with some kind of bitter retribution. Taking care of Sojiro Shimada was like hand-feeding a snapping turtle – as much as he hated it, there was a certain expectation that getting bitten was part of the job. Hanzo was looking forward to having Genji back around the house a bit in the summer. 

The fights seemed to mellow as Sojiro took to sleeping more. Hanzo had a feeling he was hitting the harder liquors and bourbons now. The sight of him one afternoon swigging out of the bottle, not even sparing time for a glass, only confirmed his suspicions. It had made his stomach churn. However, bad news came good. Genji had thoroughly surprised him when he’d come home from after work. Dread had twisted his guts seeing his younger brother sitting out on the steps of the house, but seeing a sheepish smile melted it away. “What are you doing out here, Genji?” He looked him over quickly as his little brother stood with head high and shoulders squared as he approached. 

“I have an invitation.” The invitation was no bigger than a business card with mustard yellow backing and red text of location and time on the front. Genji was bowed neatly as he offered the card to his brother. In the back of his mind, he remembered the etiquette and how it would, hopefully, earn some brownie points. Genji did not look at Hanzo until the card was cautiously lifted from his fingers. It had certainly worked if the small smile was any sign. Nowadays it was more mythical than the fabled unicorns. “I will be earning my advancement.” There was pride there that Hanzo thanked the heavens for. It was good to see that he found something to work on. It would explain why he was gone so often as well. 

“I will make sure that I have off.” Hanzo bowed in return, albeit less deep than Genji had. 

A few weekends pass without a word of the Advancement mentioned to their father. Sojiro would be sleeping off his hangover in the recline. The parking was packed. Genji had hitched a ride with a friend earlier that morning so that he would have more time to prepare for the test, so Hanzo arrived alone. He quietly made his way through the gates, feeling as if he were entering a house rather than a temple. It certainly wasn’t like the one back in Japan with its towering statues and stairs that climbed to the Heavens, but it had himorogi which he recognized from the old Shinto Shrine they’d frequented when they were young. This temple was more welcoming with trees and statues of Buddha nestled amongst well-kept shrines that radiated peace. A large covering had been set up with brightly colored flags along its beams. Folding chairs were provided for the guests and thankfully there’d been signs on where to sit if you were there to watch the event rather than participate. Hanzo passed a group of formally dressed monks who were busy chattering about the events today. He bowed his head politely as he excused himself past. Not once had he seen Genji. The place couldn’t have been that huge not to bump into him once. With a resigned sigh, he took a seat near the aisle that seemed to have a good vantage point of the floor that the arts would take place. 

‘To: Lettuce Head 

Good luck today. : )’ 

He glanced up in time to see he was being approached by one of the monks. The man was tall yet the aura that he exuded was welcoming and almost, almost, made Hanzo feel at ease. "It's so good to meet the famed Hanzo Shimada. I have heard so many good things about you. I am so excited to have you here to watch Genji’s advancement." The man held out his hand amicably to which Hanzo returned in a more professional manner. Genji had spoken about him to this monk and it was good? Hanzo could not contain his surprised expression as he quickly rose from his seat politely. 

"Ah thank you, Mister...?" He fumbled through the people he’d been heard spoken to over the phone or about when they managed a ‘family’ breakfast. Though none of them mentioned fitting this man’s bill. 

"Oh, I beg your pardon. It makes sense that Genji had not mentioned me by name. I am Tekharthat Zenyatta, but you may call me Zenyatta or Zen if you prefer. I'm Genji's martial arts instructor and have been the teaching assistant in his Buddhist studies courses. It is how we met." A few omitted truths, but if Genji had not mentioned him to his brother then he would not offer any more than what was necessary. 

Hanzo quirked his eyebrows. He realized this was the man who’d talked his brother into the study of Buddhism. He quashed the prickle of guilt for that fight. "Thank you for taking care of my brother, Mr. Zenyatta." He dons the customary bow at the waist when thanking and meeting new people who are close to your family. "He has been more at ease when at home. I believe this,” He politely nodded to Zenyatta and the temple, “-has helped him infinitely with settling here." 

Zenyatta chuckled, "Please, there is no need to be so formal. I understand his life at home is not ideal. I have noticed too that while his life can be stressful he has found some peace through his studies, though I would not be so bold as to assume it was all my doing. He has told me that you had protected him. I can't thank you enough for that." 

The thought that Genji had taken Martial Arts to protect himself chews at the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time it had reared its head and Hanzo certainly wouldn’t doubt the validity. “Zenyatta, I did not protect him for thanks. He is my brother and I would do anything for him. Or at least offer my best.” Thankfully the discomfort did not bleed into his words. He hadn’t told anyone of their home life. Yet Genji had shared the intimate details to Zenyatta. “These studies were worth him being out so late.” Hanzo chuckled. No keggers like before. Or so he hoped. 

Zenyatta nodded in agreement but didn't seem interested in elaborating. Surely Hanzo knew all he needed to. The monk offered a grateful bow from the waist, holding his palm to his chest and taking a step back. “It has been wonderful meeting you, Hanzo, but the demonstration is about to begin and the students will be seated soon.” He waited for Hanzo to dismiss him with a polite nod before moving back towards the temple. 

The outdoor crowd hushed a bit as Zenyatta and another monk opened the doors, making way for the procession of students. There were many small children in white robes with belts of white and yellow and orange, then Genji with the green belt, and finally a girl clearly younger than him by a few years with a blue belt. The students filed in, in a rehearsed parade, lead in by a pair of monks and followed behind by Zenyatta and the other at the door. They bowed to the crowd and took their seats along the edge of the training mat spread out over the concrete. Another monk in yellow robes spoke a few words of introduction, welcoming the guests to the monastery and inviting them to take part in this joyous occasion as the bright young students of karate to demonstrate their skill and earn advancement in their ranks. 

The white-belts were up first; the youngest couldn't have been much older than five. It was cute watching the littlest as she struck her stances alongside her instructor, landing tiny kicks and punches to his outstretched palm. They bowed to one another and her white belt was exchanged for yellow before the pair bowed to the crowd. It was a little over an hour before all the younger students were through with their demonstrations and the last orange belt had been exchanged for green. Then it was Genji's turn. Zenyatta rose from his sitting position, undoing the tie at his waist and shedding the yellow monk's robe to reveal his karategi underneath. There were brief introductions before the two squared off. 

The demonstration was almost like a dance – not incredibly advanced, but thorough and methodical. It was clear that Genji had been spending time away from home practicing. He landed kicks to Zenyatta's open palms with startling precision, countering fluidly when Zenyatta threw his own punches and grabs, even catching his master's foot and off-balancing him with a cheeky smile. The demonstration ended with Genji putting his master in a grapple and pinning him to the mat. He helped Zenyatta to his feet and the two exchanged bows before Genji was presented with his blue belt. He stole an excited glance towards Hanzo as he tied the belt and bowed. 

The last demonstration was between Zenyatta and the girl with the blue belt, and it felt like it dragged on longer than the rest of the ceremony if only because Hanzo was eager to congratulate his brother. Finally, though the match was over, the belts exchanged, and the students were dismissed to mingle with their families. Hanzo had expected from the excited glance Genji had shot him, that he would come jogging over as quickly as he could but before even looking back towards Hanzo, Genji grabbed his instructor up in a tight hug. 

Hanzo swore he could feel that little weed of discontent dig its roots deeper into his heart. It worried him. Genji was clearly excited to have made his instructor proud by achieving his next belt, a common goal they both had worked hard on. He himself didn't know of this training until recently so he supposed he shouldn't feel as he did. He was lucky to be welcomed. The better question now was if he should approach, or wait for Genji to approach him. The choice seemed to be made for him as his feet carried him slowly to the pair. 

“Congratulations, Genji! That was impressive.” There was a pleased smile on Hanzo's features while his hands tried to figure a way to rest so that his awkwardness wouldn't show at interrupting their moment. “It showed how much work you put into this.” 

"Thank you, anija," Genji smiled, letting go of his instructor with a wide grin dimpling his cheeks. There was a gentle look in his eyes as Genji grasped Hanzo's hand, giving it an enthusiastic squeeze. "I'm so stoked you made it to the ceremony today. It... means a lot to me that you came." 

Genji's brows furrowed and his grin softened a bit sheepishly, giving Zenyatta a quick glance like he was searching for reassurance. It made the back of Hanzo's neck prickle warily. "There was actually something I wanted to tell you." Ice trickled down Hanzo's spine at that, the gentle smiles making uneasiness churn in the bottom of his stomach. His eyes darted back and forth between Genji and his mentor, dreading the next words he said. Genji licked his lips nervously and he hesitated until Zenyatta took his hand and gave him a small nod. "Hanzo," Genji started very deliberately, "Zenyatta is not just my instructor. He is also my boyfriend." 

There was a brief pause, hopefully not long enough for Genji to suspect something before Hanzo was able to accept what exactly had been happening with his brother. "Your boyfriend..." He gave Genji's hand a soft squeeze the smile losing a bit of its pep. It wasn't that he was upset that Genji had chosen to date another man, it was the way the fact that this man was his instructor. A mentor. Someone who was to help young adults into budding careers and there was one who had thought it proper to date his younger brother, a student of his. Hanzo's heart began to pound as the worry started to bubble up. 

"I do not mean to be rude, Mr. Tekhartha, but may I speak to Genji for a moment?" Hanzo glanced up briefly to Zenyatta then back to Genji who's expression had turned nearly frigid. However, Hanzo's hand remanded lax, Genji could come with him, or he could stay, but he hoped he would give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Be understanding with him,” Zenyatta murmured; it wasn't obvious whether he meant to direct his words at Genji or Hanzo. Giving a polite bow, he broke away finding his robes and gathering them up before seeking out his other student to congratulate her and her family. It was only then that Hanzo realized the look of worry slowly seeping into Genji's expression, his eyes turning down a moment as he took a long breath in like he was gathering the courage to speak. 

“You don't have to say it, ani. I can tell you disapprove.” He looked disheartened, bringing a hand up to rub his shoulder in an anxious gesture. Genji finally looked up at Hanzo with disappointment in his eyes. “It took a lot of courage for me to tell you though. I want you to understand that before you say anything.” 

"And I hope you keep that courage, Otōto. I am happy you have told me but-" Hanzo furrows his brows, lips pursing as he gathers his words, "I want to make sure... He is not just- He is your mentor and I just want to make sure that it is a healthy relationship." His hands are in his lap and folded neatly. If he was honest there was more to it. "I want to make sure you are safe." He understood Genji was the one who was eager to introduce them, there had to be some good to their relationship. Hanzo needed a verbal confirmation from Genji. He could work through the strange urgency to pull him out of the temple and forbid him from coming back. It sent a shiver down his spine at the thought. These dark thoughts were beginning to frighten him. 

"Ani..." Genji started, expression shifting from a look of regret to a sour face, nose wrinkled and lips pursed. "Hanzo, ugh! You don't get it. Zen has been my boyfriend since before I started learning karate from him. He offered to teach me after I told him what happened when I got home after new years." Genji twisted his lips to the side and folded his arms. "Dad hit you, and I thought he would have hit me, or done worse to you. Zen offered to teach me self defense." He narrowed his eyes at Hanzo, indignation rising in his chest that his brother didn't trust him to make his own decisions. Sure Zenyatta was older than him by a few years and working on his master's degree already, but that didn't make him a predator - he was a monk for crying out loud. Genji clicked his tongue to signal his annoyance. "Besides, it's not like he was the professor of Buddhist Philosophy or Buddhist Religion, just a TA. He only ever leads discussion group and proctored the exams." 

"I am your older brother I am supposed to worry about who you are dating!" A harsh whisper of Japanese kept out the family who was passing by with their little girl who was chatting loudly about her new belt. This was ridiculous. Genji being mad at him for being concerned, especially since they hadn't exactly had the best role models for 'relationships,' rubbed him the wrong way. He took a deep breath in and sighed heavily through his nose. The hairs on the nape of his nape tingled at the memory. Genji intended to harm their father if he tried again. That made his concern grow even more. Sojiro wasn't exactly a pushover even if he was a bottle in the hole on a good day. "You are happy with him? Honestly?" There's apprehension and acceptance in his tone, expression softening. He could feel Zenyatta's eyes on them, certainly gauging if there was unrest between them. 

"Of course he makes me happy, Hanzo," Genji sneered, giving his brother's shoulder a gentle punch, "We've been together like seven months now. You think I'd have stuck it out this long if he didn't?" It was an obvious dig at himself. Back in Hanamura Genji had always been a bit of a sweet talker and a flirt. He'd stolen sunset kisses, and cheeky ass grabs, and even hearts. It was odd that he would settle down with someone for longer than a week - people were fun but Genji was easily distracted and easily bored and he knew it. He'd never been satisfied with just one of anything and had earned him his fair share of offending slaps. Genji turned his gaze back towards Zenyatta trying not to make it seem like he was feeling a little flutter in his chest. "He is kind... genuinely, not just that fake nice-guy shit guys do when they want something. He's thoughtful and funny and generous loyal and somehow I guess I make him happy too and... damnit, Hanzo. I love him so much. Why can't you just be happy for me?" 

There is the smallest of smiles at the playful punch and he rubs at it with a teasing pout. With the mention of love, Hanzo nearly clams up. It's like a train derailed in his mind and he is taking stock of the damage. He looks at Zenyatta with wide eyes and then to Genji. His little brother had it bad. Genji was right though, why couldn't he just be happy? His little brother seemed to be handling alright. Just because he was hanging out more with his boyfriend, come on Hanzo he loves him, didn't mean he cared any less for his family. Genji deserved his own life and interests. 

Hanzo gathered Genji up in his arms in nothing short of a bear hug. "I am happy for you. I was just worried, otōto." He releases him and gives him a genuine smile, digging a hole in his heart to bury the negativity away. "If you don't have plans with him, how about we all go out for a celebratory dinner? My treat obviously." He ruffled Genji's hair fondly. "If not, then at least let me give you the card I have for you." 

“Dinner sounds great as long as it's someplace with vegetarian options.” Genji seemed to relax a bit, his hackles lowering a bit at the gesture as Hanzo tried obviously to smooth him over. It was working, for now at least. “I really do want you to get to know him. You'll like him, I promise.” Genji looked over his shoulder again, giving Zenyatta a reassuring smile and a little wave with his fingers. Zenyatta waved back and smiled warmly but kept his distance until he was invited back in earnest, respecting the brothers' privacy. “He's a little stiff when you first meet him cause he's kind of bad at judging character right away, but once he gets to know you he really lightens up, trust me.” 

Hanzo chuckled softly. “He is intelligent in allowing others to offer information first to see what is appropriate.” Hanzo could appreciate that – a man who can see what sort of person he is dealing with. If he may trust them or not. Smart. A good quality for his little brother’s boyfriend to have. “You will have to tell me some of your favorite places then. The spot I had in mind is not exactly vegetarian-friendly.” He glanced to Zenyatta. “Should we make him wait longer?” Hanzo gave Genji a good-natured nudge as he half turned to towards the monk. “I think we should.” He gave Zenyatta a teasing grin before Genji nudged him back hard in the side. Keep lying to yourself about the worry, about the acceptance, and maybe he would come to terms with it. 

"When did you become such a terror, brother?" Genji snorted as he prodded Hanzo gently with his elbow. "You don't have to be so obvious you intend to torture my boyfriend." The gentleness of Genji's playful roughhousing only served to remind Hanzo that his brother had been training very hard to improve himself, and he was more than capable of making his jabs hurt if he'd really been offended. "There's a Vietnamese place not too far north of here with a vegetable pho I know he likes. We could go there if that doesn't sound too bad." Genji shrugged to appear more aloof about it, but Hanzo could tell he cared; he cared enough to learn what restaurants served things Zenyatta could eat and even what dishes he liked from there. It was more conscious effort than Hanzo had ever seen Genji put into anyone. Heck, Genji didn't even know Hanzo's usual orders when they called dinner in. 

"Once more, I am your older brother. It is practically my duty to terrorize any prospecting suitors." The word suitor was a little difficult for him to wrap his tongue around, but it still managed a shake of disbelief from Genji. "Find it for me on the maps. I will go ask Zenyatta if he would join us." Hanzo fished out his phone and unlocked it for Genji, handing it over. "I will not mess with him too badly." The smile warmed as he ruffled his little brother's hair again. As he made his way over to Zenyatta, Hanzo pursed his lips into a thin line, nose wrinkled, and eyes narrowed as if in anger. He kept his shoulders squared and head held high. "Mr. Tekhartha." His voice was clipped and he just barely caught the way the monk tensed up at the tone. 

Zenyatta's shoulders visibly bunched up under Hanzo's scrutiny. Even if he was at least a head taller than Hanzo and clearly more experienced in martial arts, he still seemed almost as though he was intimidated by Hanzo's scowl. "Hanzo," he started, forcing himself to feign as though he was relaxed and offering a polite nod, "I did mention you needn't be so formal with me, didn't I? Please..." his brow creased furrowing all the way up through the darkly colored dots on his forehead to the line where his shaved hair was barely trying to grow back in. "You seem upset. I hope that I have not done or said anything to offend you." He seemed worried that Hanzo disapproved of their relationship, that he would forbid it, and Zenyatta really didn't want to fight with his boyfriend's brother. It would be unseemly at best. 

Hanzo's scowl softened and he bit back a snicker, "No. You have been polite enough and I already have had a discussion with Genji. Zenyatta," He offers a small smile and a gentle nod, "Would you please join us for Genji's celebration dinner? It would be appreciated if you did." There's a quirk of a smile on his lips, groomed eyebrows quirked up in amusement. "I will not 'terrorize' you so much this evening. Genji has forbidden it..." Zenyatta probably could hear the mock disappointment in his tone while Hanzo felt Genji's stare burn his back. It must have been the expression he had. 

A splash of relief trickled down Zenyatta's back, but he was still stiff and a bit uneasy. "I'm honored by the invitation," he clasped his hands in front of himself and offered Hanzo a slightly wary smile. "I would like to join you very much. It will give us the opportunity to become better acquainted." Zenyatta shot a reassuring glance over Hanzo's shoulder towards Genji, hoping to ease the tension between the three of them if only a little. He understood why Hanzo would want to single them out individually though. It forced them to be independent and honest, not that they weren't when together, but then it would be harder to prove. Hanzo was protective of his brother, for which Zenyatta could only be grateful. 

"It will. Let us see if Genji found my directions." Satisfied enough with the answer and giving him a brief once over, Hanzo turned back to Genji with an easier air about him. He stepped with a light click of his dress shoes on the cement, a small smile on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Mentally he was trying to remember the directions to the local farms that he'd seen pigs in, just in case he needed to dispose of a body. Well, he would be civil enough, but it never hurt to have a backup plan. 

Genji handed over Hanzo's phone with the map pulled up, hurrying back into the temple to change back into his street clothes. It didn't take him long and soon they were on their way to a bit of an early dinner. The conversation stayed light in spite of Hanzo's silent skepticism, though the things he learned didn't necessarily quell his uneasiness about Genji's new boyfriend. Zenyatta was older than Genji, even older than Hanzo himself by a couple of years, and the thought of his peppy freshman baby brother dating not just an upperclassman but a grad student made Hanzo bristle a bit. 

Besides that, he'd been Genji's instructor and even tutored him in his Buddhism classes. He learned from a bashful admission that Genji was tentatively practicing his boyfriend's religion though he had no plans to take it as far as ordination. He assured Hanzo that didn't mean he was giving up on their family's traditional practice of Shinto, making a case for the two ideologies coexisting from a conceptual standpoint. Hanzo didn't pretend to understand it but he did his best to accept that Genji was branching out. 

By the time their dinner was through and they'd been sitting around taking up a booth for more time than the hostess appreciated, Hanzo still wasn't sure how he felt about Zenyatta. He hadn't outwardly said or done anything that made him suspicious, and maybe that was what made Hanzo all the more on edge. Usually by this point, someone who wasn't trying so hard to put forth a good impression would have done something that rattled him a little more said an off-color joke or offered up a little too much about their political viewpoint. Zenyatta hadn't even proselytized when Genji had brought up his religion. He was polite and soft-spoken and amicable and it just didn't quite sit right to Hanzo. There had to be something that justified his discomfort. Maybe what upset Hanzo the most was that beyond their age difference there wasn't much reason to explain why he felt so uneasy about the whole thing. 

They parted ways after giving Zenyatta a lift back to the temple, all smiles and handshakes and Hanzo felt a turn in his stomach when Genji got up on his tiptoes, looking his arms around Zenyatta's neck and kissing him amorous and chaste. Zenyatta had given him no reason at all to distrust him and yet there Hanzo was, silently disapproving of that kiss and the affection behind it. When Genji had climbed back into the car, Hanzo waited until they were a good five minutes out of Zenyatta's earshot before opening his mouth. 

“So. Have you two had sex?” 

“Excuse me?” Genji's face was shocked and perplexed as he stared at his brother in disbelief. “Have we had...?” Oh no, Genji's eyes turned away and he gaped like a fish – Genji's poker face was the worst in history. “I don't see how that's any of your business, ani.” 

“It is my business if you both have not been tested or been having protected sex.” Hanzo kept his eyes on the road. The traffic was affording them some time to discuss the ramifications of not having safe sex or investing in proper lubricants for condoms so they wouldn't dissolve. He wasn't exactly in the Japanese mindset of marriage first then sex, but he certainly wasn't in the American mindset that after a few months they would be intimate together. Hanzo ran a clammy hand down his face with a sigh as they waited for traffic to progress again. 

“I cannot help but wonder if he is actually a monk. Are they not to be celibate?” There was genuine uncertainty but also a tinge of upset. The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable he became. Not only with the situation, but the sudden realization that his younger brother knew more about sex, of all kinds, than he did. Zenyatta probably already ensured that. He turns his attention back to the cars, wringing the steering wheel in his hands. 

“Not necessarily,” Genji muttered, turning his eyes to look out the passenger side window. He shrunk back, folding his arms across his chest and sulking a bit, clearly unhappy about being cornered and maybe contemplating whether he would survive if he dove out of the car while it was still in motion. “Some monks chose to be celibate, but it's not necessarily required. The philosophy is that those who practice devoutly not let themselves become addicted or uh... to desire... it's kind of hard to explain, I guess. The idea is that it's okay to do things for yourself as long as they are good and that you don't crave those things...” 

Genji huffed, hunching his shoulders up, squirming in his seat as he tried his best to defend himself and his boyfriend. “Like, it's not against creed to eat cake, but it is against creed to want cake so much that you're unhappy when there's no cake around to eat. I... I'm sorry, I'm not very good at explaining.” Genji pulled his feet up onto the seat, kicking off his flip-flops so his bare toes gripped the upholstery as he wrapped his arms around his knees, still refusing to look at Hanzo as he spoke. 

Hanzo turned the words over in his mind. It certainly made sense to him. "In moderation then. Not an addiction." He steered his thoughts from Sojiro at the mere mention of the word. Disappointment furrowed his brow at that. "So you have not had sex often then?" He wasn't about to let Genji get away with dodging the first question of sex. "And the times you have had sex it has been safe?" The traffic started moving again, his little brother would not be able to get away easily. 

Genji gave a small nod into the peak of his knees, a mortified shade of pink creeping up from his throat all the way up to the tips of his ears until Genji's whole face was burning with embarrassment. 

“We've only done it a couple of times, okay? And we're safe!” Genji practically wailed into the muffle of his legs, grabbing at his hair in frustration. “It's not exactly like I want to talk about this with my brother, okay? It's private!” His words were only just audible as he tried to smother them out against his shorts. He made a soft whimper and sniffed, turning his head and wiping his eyes against the sleeve on his shoulder. “It feels good, okay? And he's really gentle, and only ever does anything when I ask... please don't hate him, Hanzo.” 

If he hadn't been driving he would have gathered his brother up in a frantic hug to hush him. The kind of backpedaling Hanzo used to do when they were young when he had taken their tousling just a step too far and made Genji wail. It was an automatic response to get him to stop. “I am not going to hate him. There is still something about him that nags me, but maybe I am being overprotective of you.” The tips of his ears burned at the implications of how Genji had tried to make his point that Zenyatta was a good man. “I am, uh, glad he makes you feel good. If anything does happen, do not be embarrassed to call me or go to the hospital.” Cautiously he reached over resting a hand at Genji’s neck to knead at the tension, trying to calm him. “I do not care if you think something will ‘come out on its own,’ you will go to the hospital and get some professional help. Take care of yourself…” His brows creased at how awkward he was probably making him feel but he’d opened the door and he would be damn if he shut it without feeling more at ease. 

“Oh my god!” Genji howled, clapping his hands over his ears and groaning dramatically as if Hanzo's words pained him to hear. “Hanzo, please! Stop talking about that!” He slapped his brother's hand away from the back of his neck with a whine of protest. “I know what to do, geez. Neither of us even owns anything like that!” Genji quickly buried his face between his knees again and made more exaggerated sounds of mortification. He hated getting put on the spot like that, especially by his brother, but at least it was better than getting questioned by his father. Genji sulked a bit, knowing Hanzo had every right to be overprotective of him. He'd only just come of age last summer and Zenyatta was older even than Hanzo; he knew it didn't look good from the outside looking in, but he really needed Hanzo to trust him. 

"Just because you don't own something like that now, doesn't mean you won't later." Hanzo felt the embarrassment pouring off of Genji in waves, almost making a blush crawl on his cheeks. "Oh, quiet. It is not that bad to be hearing that from me! I am older than you so it is natural I would know... Things." Hanzo sighed in relief as they came to more recognizable roads. 

“Oh please,” Genji mumbled, peeking up from behind his arms and casting a sidelong glare at Hanzo, “when have you ever been with anyone?” He crinkled his nose and brow in thought. “You mean that girl you were seeing junior year?” Genji let out a malicious little snort of laughter, giving Hanzo a snide smirk. “Unless she was really into pegging, I think I might have a leg up on you this time, ani.” 

Hanzo visibly bristled; it would almost make Miyazaki proud with just how much his hackles were raised. Talking about Aiko always wound him up. She'd been a sweetheart from the start but just dropped him when she found out his family's business. He couldn't say he blamed her, but it still left a smarting wound. Especially when she ended up needing to be paid off because she had some... dirt, so to speak, about his person. "She was not into that! We never- we- oh my god we are not arguing about this." He would not give Genji ammo. No, he would not. Leg up on him indeed. It didn't mean he didn't have the internet to turn to. In the same respect, Genji had access as well. Hell, he probably had a college adviser he wasn't dating that helped with those sort of problems. A twitch crumpled his left eyebrow. Oh, he knew there would be a headache coming. "Genji, you are making this difficult." 

“What? Me?” Genji's head shot up like a startled rabbit. “How am I the one making this difficult? You're the one putting my life on trial because you don't trust my boyfriend, even though he has done literally nothing to earn your distrust beyond dating your little brother. You're such a hypocrite!” Genji hunched his shoulders up defensively, gritting his teeth; he didn't want to fight with Hanzo but he couldn't abide that patronizing tone. “I'm not some dumb kid, Hanzo. Why don't you trust me to make my own choices?” 

Hanzo bit his tongue. There was a long list of why he shouldn't, but Hanzo was the adult. He shouldn't be so judgmental. It was so difficult not to trust in his gut instinct. "I am not putting your life on trial. He is not your life... I will stop asking questions on one condition, Genji, only one." They turned into their neighborhood, Hanzo pursed his lips. "If anything goes wrong, let me help." He didn't pull into the driveway yet. Hanzo looked to Genji, worry evident with the creases in his brow and the pinch in his lips. 

“Who else am I gonna go to?” Genji's tone softened, reminding himself that even if Hanzo disapproved of their relationship, he could count on his big brother to be there when he needed him. It wasn't like he could bring the issue up with their dad if anything wen awry. The thought made Genji's heart sink into his stomach – he didn't know how their father would react. He was drunk and angry more often than not anymore, and his temperament was unpredictable at best. Genji wasn't ready to risk his home life for a moment of honesty. Maybe after he'd graduated. “You uh... know not to mention this to dad, right?” 

"I would never tell him. Not with what he has become. I will not tell him of your Buddhism either. He would be roaring." Hanzo rested a hand on Genji's shoulder. "Do you not want him to know of your belt as well? Or...?" There was already a story formulating in the back of his mind. Perhaps he could say that Genji had gone out to hang with friends and they stranded him so he went to go get him. Maybe there was an event at school that he got sick at so he could skip the dinner he had slow cooking for their father. 

“Better not...” Genji mumbled, “at best he won't give a shit at all, at worst he'll start asking questions. I don't want to have to keep my head down and keep lies straight.” He looked a bit disheartened at the thought regardless, lips turning down in a frown as the sting of embarrassment started to fade. “As he is now, I wouldn't give a shit whether or not he's proud of me anyway, what other reason would I have to tell him? I don't need him to be a good dad. All I need is to keep living with you guys until I graduate. Then the second I get a job I'm outa here.” 

It hurt to hear his brother say that, but he would never say that to him. Hanzo knew his brother needed to fly free of this house, needed to make a nest of his own. After all, if Zenyatta and Genji were still together by that time, he looked as if he would have enough responsibilities to handle splitting bills and managing a home. _Trust him to survive._ The car rolled into the driveway while Hanzo’s thoughts sped away. “Even if he is not proud of you, Zenyatta and I are. Now get to graduating. The frown is not a good look on you.” 

"Ah don't get all gross and sappy on me," Genji sneered, "I almost preferred you talking about my sex life." He grimaced exaggeratedly and made a guttural sound of disgust. _"Almost."_ He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder as he climbed out, letting Hanzo scout ahead so he could sneak past unnoticed with his uniform and stash it away in his room again. The summer was going great, he'd managed to save up a little cash to tide him over once school started up again. As long as he kept his head down and kept doing well in school, their dad would have no reason to snoop. Then in three years, he'd be free. 

The months passed with less of Genji. It wasn't completely because of Zenyatta, but rather because Sojiro had been going through a haze of black days. There were times when Hanzo was uncertain if he himself would have to find a place to stay for the evening just to be able to get some sleep from the man shouting at the tv or moving around the furniture, complaining that he kept crashing into it. At one point, Hanzo had to put the child safety locks on the doors leading outside for when night fell it seemed that his father would get an itch to go out on the town, and he was far from a functioning alcoholic. From all this, Hanzo felt that maybe Genji could stay with his boyfriend that night and bum around campus until Hanzo could ensure all was clear. 

Oftentimes Hanzo would catch Genji to give him a twenty, or forty if he could afford it, to help with how often as of late Genji was hiding over at Zenyatta’s. It wasn't as if he could just apologize for any of what was happening. He could only help with some of the strange burden. It was awkward at first when Genji would invite Hanzo to come to hang out with him and Zenyatta, claiming he was becoming a hermit, which wasn't terribly wrong, but he felt like he would be an intruder. To his surprise, he never felt like a third wheel. Zenyatta had even grown on him as a person. The stiff song and dance between what was acceptable and what wasn’t torn down after the first few hours they'd been chatting while Genji did some relay for the school. After learning so much, he understood why Genji had fallen for him. An anchor who knew what he wanted out of life and was well on his way to achieving it. At least one of them would be able to thrive in this hell hole of ‘opportunities.’ 

Zenyatta was enthusiastic but polite; unlike Genji, he didn't tend to steamroll Hanzo in conversation when he talked about something exciting. He was telling Hanzo about his plans for his last semester; he'd arranged to spend his last semester in Nepal as part of his graduate school practicum. He would be gone for a year at the most, but he would return if Genji was willing to wait. He assured Hanzo he wouldn't be pressuring Genji into anything if he felt like a year apart would be too long. 

Hanzo was impressed with Zenyatta’s plans. It was incredible that he would want to travel so far to supplement his learning. Of course, he couldn't help but tease Zenyatta that he would be leaving a sulking Genji with him for so long. A gentle nudge made Zenyatta laugh instead of hold the worried expression on his features. He wanted to make sure the man knew he was kidding. If anything, Hanzo commented, Genji might be trying to find his own place to stay and rent if he caught a good job by then. He knew his brother could complete any task if his mind thought it worth his energy. 

“Would you still be staying in contact at least or does the temple of your studies lack in postal services? I am sure Genji would love to send you care packages. I might sneak things in as well.” He chuckled as Genji called out to them, bouncing excitedly and waving to get them riled up for his big moment to shine. 

Zenyatta waved and hollered back, applauding as Genji lined up for the relay, a grin finding his lips as Hanzo whistled loudly. “Nepal is not without technology, though it is forbidden within the monasteries, it does not mean I will be spending all my time in technological solitude. I will call often, and when cannot, I will write.” He turned his smile to Hanzo, reaching into the pocket of his chougu to pull out his cellphone, giving it a playful wiggle. “Genji has my number if you ever have need of it.” He sighed wistfully, folding his hands in front of himself as he watched Genji sprinting between the four corners of the quadrangle like he was made for it, downing horrible foods form hot chilies to lemon slices and bitter melon. “It will be another year still. We have time to make plans.” 

“Why don't we exchange numbers now?” Hanzo turned his attention back to Genji, the relaxed smile turning into a grimace at the hot chilies. He didn't want to hear it when he was crying in the bathroom later. Not at all. “I have embarrassing pictures I could send to you from when he was a kid.” Hanzo dug his phone from his back pocket. “I have one mom took of him in the bath tub with his butt out of the water, and one of him crying over sushi preparations.” Hanzo snorted at the memory of the joy Genji had at the fish still bouncing on the block and the the shock of the sudden blade coming down. His brother hadn't eaten sushi in a long while after that. That and they ended up with a new saltwater fish tank by the end of the day and a happier sushi shop. The relay runners had slowed down at a station with baby bottles, and some of the other racers were catching up where Genji seemed to struggle. Hanzo had to chime in, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Genji, blow into the bottle!” 

Chuckling at Hanzo's enthusiasm Zenyatta unlocked his phone and handed it over. “Put in your contact information and I'll text you. I'd love to see some of his baby photos.” His eyes turned back to the relay, watching Genji pull ahead again as he slammed his baby bottle down like it was a can he'd been shotgunning it. An endearing smile warmed Zenyatta's face as Genji was on the run again. “He lights up like a firecracker when he's embarrassed. Sometimes I may think he's turning from a carrot into a radish.” Zenyatta's eyes practically squeezed shut with the broad reach of his grin, shoulders hunching up as he covered his mouth at the rude laugh – perhaps it wasn't incredibly polite but there wasn't any harm in teasing his boyfriend just a little. 

“Oooh, I am telling on you.” A playful grin took over Hanzo's features as he grabbed the phone and began to tap in his number quietly as he mulled over Zenyatta’s observation. “I always think of a strawberry. With the little green tufts.” He makes a gesture on his head of tufted hair with his free hand as he offers the phone back with his contact information on screen. He’d made sure to add in his email and his work phone number in case there was a need to catch him for an emergency. “I am glad Genji has you. He has been infinitely happier. If not a little lovesick.” Hanzo laughs softly. Genji looked to be nearing the final stretch, his team hollering and cheering him on. It was nice to see him supported. Even if it was just for this event, to see him giving it his most was exciting. 

“I'm glad I can be a source of stability if nothing else,” Zenyatta replied, tucking his phone away and clapping for Genji as he rounded the last corner and sprinted towards the finish line. He was too modest to admit it, but he was glad he could be more than just a source of stability; he was glad to be someone Genji cared about so greatly, and he was proud of the obstacles his boyfriend had overcome. That didn't just mean his troubled home life either, sometimes it was just enough to be proud of Genji for outrunning a classmate in silly campus relay. The two of them whooped and hollered as Genji dashed across the finish line and into the arms of his team. He was full of grins and laughter as he leaped into the waiting jaws of the trap that sprung with tight embraces, hearty back pats, and playful noogies. “I am not the only thing that has been good for him. College life suits him well. He is quite the social butterfly, Hanzo.” 

“I have missed seeing him so happy.” Hanzo pulled out his phone, snapping a few candid shots of Genji getting his hair tousled and lifted in the air by one of the more buzzed relay mates with a whooping howl. “Normalcy.” He glanced back to Zenyatta, “He used to be a social butterfly, so to speak, when we were in Japan. I would have to go and fish him out of the party scene.” A nostalgic smile pulled at his lips, “Everyone in the town knew him. Most greeted him warmly and a few would chase him away with a broom. Literally.” He chuckled over the sight of Genji in his old school uniform running as quickly as he could from the young woman who owned the flower shop where he’d pick a carnation quickly as he passed by. “However, the old couple from the ramen shop, Rikimaru’s if I remember right, would spoil him with a specialty bowl of ramen for a late evening snack. They were even on a first name basis. It was worrisome, him being in the house all the time here for more than one reason.” Hanzo rose from his seat, stretching in place until he heard his back pop all the way up. The stiffness left him instantly. He really should get back into yoga. 

Things were finally going well again; school was back to keeping Genji busy and time had taught the two how to navigate around the living obstacle of their alcoholic father. Hanzo had gotten better at managing him, if only by placating his drunken complaints with a few false promises soon forgotten in the fog of inebriation. When things got prickly, he would give Genji enough advanced warning to avoid coming home right away, or at least until Hanzo had gotten the old man off to bed where he tended to remain mostly harmless the rest of the night. Life was running smoothly for a time, even if the wheels were greased with handfuls of deception. 

It was surprising then, at least to Hanzo, when Genji had come home late after his final midterm exam before Thanksgiving break. He was making a racket all on his own, fumbling with the keys and palming his way along the wall to the dining room, where he used the table for balance. When Hanzo had turned the light on in the kitchen to investigate the commotion, Genji had slurred something unintelligible, nearly losing his balance when he lifted his hand from the table to wave. It wasn't long before a late night encounter became a hushed argument following urges from Hanzo for Genji to keep his voice down lest he wakes their father. Genji managed to get control of his own balance just enough to get in Hanzo's personal space, close enough for the reek of alcohol to be obvious on his breath. Hanzo shied away and reprimanded him, insisting he knew his brother was better than this. He didn't mention Sojiro's similar behavior but he didn't have to. 

"What, Hanzo?” Genji growled, puffing out his chest if only to make himself appear a little tougher. “You think I'm gonna end up like dad? Think I'm gonna hit you too?" He made a sharp jerk with his hand, a quick feint at a strike unintended to deliver. Hanzo jerked, the false swipe doing its job and prompting a knee-jerk reaction from him. What happened next felt almost simultaneous. 

Hanzo, startled by Genji's quick movement, shoved his brother back and took a defensive swing of his own, striking Genji's face with an open palm if only to bring him back to his senses. Genji seized Hanzo by the wrist and twisted his arm back until he had to turn with his arm, relenting to Genji's quick maneuver with a sharp yelp of pain as he dropped to his knees. 

Even Hanzo's other hand that went to break the hold was now pinned against him and his legs tucked tightly against his chest in a humiliating fashion that he couldn't use them to lash out. “Genji! Let me go! You are hurting me!” Hanzo’s eyes were wide with a mix of anger and a spark of fear once he heard his right shoulder pop. It wasn't exactly painful, but it pulled a howl out of him that renewed his struggling and only made Genji grip tighter in his own drunken fear. 

“If I-I let you go, you'll hit me again-” Genji argued with a slight lisp to his words. A struggle to sober up and keep his posture rigid as they devolved into shouting obscenities at each other in their mother tongue. 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Sojiro bellowed as he came into the room like an angry bear who'd been awoken from hibernation. The door knob had punched a hole in the wall as it was slammed open but neither of the boys would notice this now as they recoiled from their father’s voice. “Stop roughhousing or I will make you stop.” A promise he was set on as he rounded the couch and began to approach the startled pair. 

Hanzo took the opportunity of Genji’s surprise to rip his arms back from his hold. The motion had offset his brother and made the dining room table screech across the linoleum as he caught himself on it. It was eerie to watch them both cover their ears at the same time. Both stumble and squeeze their eyes shut tightly. Anger coiled tight like a ball in Hanzo’s chest. The pain dissipating as his body hit that numbness fueled by adrenaline. “Do not ever touch me like that again!” The snap seemed logical at the time, make his head ring a little more while he rose to his feet and started back-pedaling to his room. “I have work in the morning. You two can have each other!” 

He felt emasculated. Unable to control his family and reminded he was beaten like some sort of weakling who wouldn't fight back if only because he didn't want to harm them. The slam of his door rattled the walls enough to invoke a new tirade of cursing from Sojiro and make Genji jerk his head up in acknowledgment of sound. The bed protested his angry thrashing on the sheets. He missed the days when his brother would come sneaking into his room from across the hallway and curl up with him when a bad dream shook his conscious. How Hanzo would be able to chase the demons away just with his presence alone. He missed how any bullies would run when Genji would call for him. Now he was nothing but a useless paper shield to his brother. Genji had sought lessons to defend himself. 

Clearly, he no longer felt any sort of safety from calling on his older brother. 

Hanzo shook his head and forced the thought out of his mind only to have it curl around his heart. For the first time in a long while, he wished he wouldn't get up in the morning. 

Genji didn't show his face the next morning as Hanzo was leaving and he didn't come home the next night. In fact, it was three days before Hanzo saw even a wisp of his brother before he slipped past and down the hall into his room. They weren't ready to communicate face-to-face, clearly, but worry ached in the pit of Hanzo's stomach and it drove him to reach out, not by knocking on his door – no he was still far too ashamed and angry for that – but by texting. He asked if Genji was alright. He knew the question was stupid; if he was alright he wouldn't be hiding out like he was, avoiding the house and Hanzo when he could. He hadn't expected a response right away, much less the sound of the floor squeaking outside his door. 

Hanzo paused, fingertips on the doorknob; he half expected Sojiro on the other side. What he hadn't been expecting was Genji looking distraught, brows knitted together and a puffy red ring around his left eye. Three days clearly hadn't been enough to let the shiner heal. Hanzo didn't say anything right away, just stepped aside allowing Genji into his room. They sat on the floor and didn't talk much while Hanzo dabbed at the black eye with a sponge and a little foundation. They didn't talk about the fight and nobody apologized, at least not with their words, but Hanzo showed his brother how to disguise the bruise with a little makeup. 

Genji admitted that at first, it had been fun walking around with the black eye like a badge of honor hard won in a fight, but he'd quickly run out of stories to tell how he'd gotten it in a bar fight saving a pretty young lady or rescuing a cat from a group of thugs in a back alley. Soon the questions about it had gotten under his skin. He hated it when his friends asked him if everything was okay at home, or offered him a place to stay. Zenyatta was the only person he wanted to talk to about it. He wanted to maintain his happy-go-lucky facade in front of everyone else. He didn't want to feel so patronized. Hanzo nodded, understanding the sentiment as he blended the foundation in, hiding the evidence of fight three nights ago. 

After he finished sealing the foundation and Genji had become silent, Hanzo pulled his brother into a hug. He was mindful of not touching the eye they'd just concealed and they stayed like that for a moment. That yearning to be young-ignorant of their circumstances and back to running around playing with sticks as if they were swords. Move on. Hanzo mentally chided himself as he smoothed Genji’s hair and pulled away. “Just a little longer, Genji.” 

Things evened out after that. A daily routine back into the swing of things. Hanzo had earned a small raise. They were able to pick up a few new threads for Genji’s big year ahead. Hanzo had insisted he needed some new work clothes for the interviews, but they ended up splurging on some nice jeans and comfortable tees. It didn't bother him though, Genji still looked sharp in them. Zenyatta had agreed as well and Genji had made sure to take plenty of pictures on his boyfriend’s phone as possible. Sojiro had been brought home some new clothes as well in hopes of lifting spirits. No such luck. 

Hanzo cursed his thinking at trying the authentic Mexican restaurant across from their strip mall. They may have had four stars but they still had his insides wishing to come out. It had become bad enough that the office had told him to go home. They were sick of seeing him running through the halls. It wasn't like he was getting any work done. Back home he was blessed with a moment of silence as Sojiro was still in bed. The only thing making any noise, besides his regrets, was his phone. Genji had been blowing it up all morning. Something about classes and finals, or he thought. He’d been skimming the messages and picking out what he could answer best. He was certain Genji had about enough of his half-hearted answers. Especially all those emojis of a little snorting face sent to him. 

That would have to wait. His phone was tossed onto the couch as he ran towards his prison. 

When he returned he patted down the couch in search of his phone, not finding it right away. He was about to reach his hand down between the cushions when he noticed his dad standing in the doorway between the dining room and the living room, hunched over and phone in hand. At first, it didn't startle him, his dad must have seen it and picked it up by mistake or out of curiosity, but he wouldn't be able to get much farther than the lock screen. He was about to ask for it back when his stomach dropped at the way the screen moved under Sojiro's shaky thumb. 

“Hey-” He tried to hide the tremble of trepidation as he interrupted his father. He didn't get Sojiro's attention right away, but when Hanzo cleared his throat and spoke up again, his head lifted and he turned a sharp glare on Hanzo. 

“You been hiding this shit from me?” He growled, wincing at the sound of his own voice against the drumming of the hangover in his skull. He turned, straightening his shoulders and clutching Hanzo's phone between his hands like he was expecting it to be snatched away. “You been hiding your brother's fucking filthy secrets from me?” He turned his attention from Hanzo back to the screen, tapping it to keep it unlocked before he grunted irately again. “Who the fuck is Sen... Zentadda? Yatta? Your brother got a fag boyfriend?” 

“No.” Hanzo wasn't sure if he'd answered too quickly, but the way Sojiro’s brows rose to his hairline, it was a resounding yes. “He is not his boyfriend. Just a good friend he has in college. Helps tutor him in classes. May I have my phone back now, father? I need to message-” 

“No. Do not lie to me. I know you are lying-” He held up the phone and Hanzo blanched that he'd seen one of Genji’s profile page photos from a few months back. An innocent one at best. He and Zenyatta held hands with their cheeks mashed together and smiled like the world was their oyster. It was true happiness. “This. You don do that with a good buddy less you're fuckin!” Sojiro threw the phone against the wall as Hanzo made a grab for it. His boys had become little heathens without him to keep them in line. How could he, or Hanzo, allow this to happen? 

“He is not!” The cry fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood spurned on by anger. The wall earned a new hole. The phone screen spiderwebbed. A man held in suspended animation as his 'father' howled and began to destroy the dining room. The table was upended. Chairs were scattered about. Hanzo felt the brunt of one against his hip as he grabbed at his snarling father. “Calm down… There is no problem with this.” 

Sojiro was held in place by firm hands but he continued his assault, “My son is a faggot, Hanzo! Your brother- You both been lying to me!” He kneed Hanzo in the stomach and sent him hunched to the floor, “What happened to loyalty in this family?! Honor?! Both of you have barely been in America for a year and you let this shit happen!” The world flipped and he found himself landing on the ground with a solid thump. “Wha-?!” 

Hanzo’s large hand clamped around his father’s mouth while his legs pinned Sojiro's arms to his side. “Shut up! We have been loyal to you. We have remained in this house! Supported you!” He growled at Sojiro though fear rammed his heart against his rib cage. It was apparent that the man they'd called father had been severely altered by the cradle of alcohol. Several months lost in the haze. Hanzo felt sickened as he stared the man down until he felt Sojiro become slack and smiled like a man possessed beneath his palm. 

“And now you man up… All because of your cock suc-” 

Hanzo looked to his fist then to Sojiro. He was out like a light. Oh shit. The phone was in his hand in an instant. He prayed Genji would pick up. That he wouldn't just let it go to voicemail. He needed to stay away until the fanned flame smoldered. Genji needed to be safe. 

The first attempt rang for what felt like an eternity before going to voicemail, the familiar sound of Genji's custom greeting sending ice through his veins. Hanzo dialed again, feeling the cracks in the screen terrifyingly sharp underneath his fingertips. This time Genji picked up, his voice sounding conflictingly cheerful in light of the horror slowly trickling down Hanzo's spine. 

“Yo, onīsan.” Hanzo could practically hear the smile in Genji's voice while he tried to keep his own breath from trembling. “Sorry I didn't pick up the first time. Couldn't get to the phone in time.” 

“Don't come home.” 

It was all Hanzo could manage. There was blood trickling down Sojiro's face from his nose, a dark bruise already forming while he remained unconscious underneath Hanzo's weight. How easy it would be to end their struggle – he shook his head violently at the thought, grabbing a fistful of his own hair and scrambling to his feet to distance himself from his father. 

“What?” Genji's voice sounded astonished at first but tittered off into annoyance. “Damnit, is he all sauced up again tonight? Shit. I have a presentation tomorrow. I need my shi-” 

“No!” Hanzo was frightened by the sound of his own voice, backing up until his back found the door frame and he fought the instinct to bolt. “You can't come back here. It isn't safe.” 

“What do you mean it isn't safe?” There was a muffled sound as Genji covered the speaker on his phone with his palm, but Hanzo could overhear what he was saying. “It's Hanzo. He says I shouldn't come home tonight. Is it okay if I stay?” There was a pause, a few more murmured words, and Hanzo was about ready to shout into the receiver if Genji didn't put the phone back to his ear again. Finally, he heard Genji loud and clear. “Zenyatta says I can stay, but what do you mean it isn't safe? Did he hit you again?” 

“No! Genji, listen!” There was a desperate strain to Hanzo's voice, begging Genji to please take this seriously. “I hit him.” 

“You what?!” Genji was astonished, breathy with shock, Hanzo could hear the way Genji clutched at the phone and gaped against the microphone in disbelief. “You hit him? Ani... Hanzo, what did he do to you?” Panic was rising in his throat, and Hanzo hissed at him to shush and calm down. 

“He got into my phone while I was in the bathroom.” The admission felt like a stone on his tongue, the adrenaline starting to fade and leaving Hanzo with a heavy reality to bear. “He read through our texts and looked through your profile page.” His voice shuddered as flashes of the fight from only minutes ago rushed back – all that anger and hatred boiling in his eyes and steaming off his words. “He got very angry. When I tried to get my phone back, he called you a c-...” He couldn't make himself say it. “I hit him. I couldn't stop it. Genji I... I think it would be best if you stayed away from the house for a few days. At least until this blows over.” Hanzo swallowed, trying to steady his shaky breathing. “I can bring you some necessities after work tomorrow. Just sit... sit tight for now.” 

Genji's world collapsed silently around him. He had been so close to the end of this train wreck and now his father knew of his boyfriend. Well, Hanzo at least saved him from getting messed up badly if how shaken he sounded was anything to go by. What if he could never come back to the house? Would Hanzo even be able to help him? Would he be homeless? Everything felt so far away. It was as if his body was experiencing everything but he wasn’t there. It wasn’t until he felt a warm weight against his back and wrapping securely around his middle that he came back to a frantic Hanzo asking if he was okay and the phone being taken by Zenyatta. 

“Hanzo.” Zenyatta’s voice was calm but strong, “Genji may stay here. There is still time left to the year and we may work around the school's rulings.” It was a welcomed relief to listen to Zenyatta handle his brother while he tried to think of how he would be able to retrieve the project he had been working months on. Genji curled into the support of Zenyatta’s chest. Gone were the days when he shied away from the support Zenyatta would offer or felt the embarrassment heat his pale cheeks, now he embraced it and in turn offered his own help when he could. However, it never felt like he helped enough. “Hanzo needs to speak to you again, Genji.” 

“Sorry, Hanzo. I clammed up…” 

“Listen, Genji, Otōto… I will be there by 4 to drop off clothing, laptop, chargers, and money-” 

“Hanzo, I need my presentation in the morning. This could make or break my grade." He didn't give a care about having money right now. That wouldn't help him. 

“Ask for an extension.” Hanzo knew their pride was a force to be reckoned with, but all of it needed to be swallowed. “Tell them what is going on. I will set up a meeting with the teacher to explain.” Genji sighed heavily. He wasn’t about to let the whole school know that he was still being abused by his old man. That his family wasn’t normal in the slightest. “Genji, please.” He must have been silent for too long again. 

“Okay.” A lie. It wasn’t okay. None of this was, but he wasn’t about to tell his brother that he would be sneaking back into their house. He wasn’t even going to tell his boyfriend. He knew neither of them would let him even think of stepping foot onto the Blue Line 929. “Will you be all right?” 

“I will be fine… Worry about yourself.” Hanzo bit back the information of the dangerous thought he’d had of their father and the excuse he was easily able to come up with… That thought was abrasive to him. Ground its way against the grain of his very being and beliefs. A groan from the floor startled him. Sojiro was already regaining some semblance of consciousness. “I need to go. Stay safe, Genji.” It almost sounded as if he wanted to cry and he loathed himself all more for being so careless. Sojiro hadn’t spotted him yet. He wasn’t going to hide any longer. 

Genji let the phone fall to the sheets so that he could wrap his arms tightly around Zenyatta’s torso. There wasn’t a need to explain. Zenyatta held firmly onto the shaking bundle in his arms. No one slept well that night while plagued with what could happen the next day.


End file.
